


My Pilot

by kabrox18



Category: Titanfall
Genre: Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-13 22:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10523652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabrox18/pseuds/kabrox18
Summary: Titans and Pilots find interesting ways to bond, sure.But fighting? Each other, no less?Taeya thinks this is a little more than interesting.





	1. Introductions

Sometimes, in the heat of combat, a pilot and Titan forgot that they were a pilot and Titan. No, they don't forget themselves--it's different, this  _ transcendence. _ It's like the line between them, physical barriers and mental, are all but forgotten. The pilot and Titan become one entity, moving and fighting as a blend of machine and mind.

Sometimes this happens even to the surliest of pilots, with new Titans who don't yet know a pilot’s quirks.

This was very much the case with Taeya; a long-fighting mercenary with little to lose and even less to care about.

“So I'm going to be set up as a pilot,” they say, to the nameless and faceless superior officer they don't care about. It wouldn't be hard to just up and leave, really; average-talented runners-and-gunners aren't exactly few and far between these days. A whole load of them go around, with big pockets and bigger egos. Taeya doesn't like considering themselves  _ above  _ the riffraff--they are the same bunch of assholes, doing the same thing.  _ At least my ego isn't the size of a Titan,  _ they think distastefully, eying the superior and the way the man nods simply.

“Titans are a lot of work to use and even more work to make, but you're a skilled tactician. You would be a valuable pilot.” The big words go in one ear and out the other--Taeya registers being complimented, and immediately snorts in disgust.

“Skilled. Right. Keep thinking that, pal,” they growl, only to be handed a bulky helmet.

“You link this evening. The link is strongest if conducted alone, so you and your Titan will be set in solitude.”

“Sure.” They grumble, taking the helmet without even looking at it. They turn and leave, muttering rather awful things under their breath.

\------

“Damn Taeya. Thought you hated Titans.”

“I don't hate them, they’re just walking scrapheaps and I feel like God went and cursed me to be linked with one of ‘em.”

“I also thought you were atheist.”

“Miller, I'm gonna knock your fuckin’ teeth in.” They glared at the grinning soldier, who motioned to them with a fork.

“Aye, be nice. I'm the one who landed your broke ass this job.”

“Yeah, thanks for the walking junkyard, asshole.” They flipped him the bird, and he laughed heartily, tossing his head back.

“Man if you could see your face right now! You're doin’ that little scrunchy nose thing.”

“That's it!” They lunged at him over the table, grabbing him by the collar and drawing a fist back. Miller just laughs again, looking down when the helmet beeps.

“Looks like you got a hot date with your walking scrapyard, eh?”

“I swear on Lastimosa’s ghost, I'm gonna make the damn thing step on you.” They drop him, snatching up the helmet and their tray--devoid of food, of course--and head out, Miller still laughing his high, cackling hyena laugh.

\------

They pace in front of the slumbering giant--Scorch model, SC-2108. They growl and glare at the helmet; the rest of the suit’s already been worked on, thick armor and padding, on top of which there’s a cloaking lattice and a wad of fluff around their collar. The helm’s a bulky bulb, a slotted ‘x’ shape making up the visor, pegs for who knows what arranged over the crown of it. They eye up at the Titan, then turn the helm, pulling it on and letting the flared jaw pieces snap closed. There's a cold feeling, like they dunked their head and hands in ice water, and a blinding flash of static that burns even when they blink. They shake their now numbed hands, flexing them through the thick gloves and growling in agitation. They freeze when they’re bathed in pale blue light from behind, a distinctly hydraulic sound bubbling up as the Titan drops, a metallic thump making the new pilot jump, turning hesitantly.

“Titan link enabled,” it says, voice monotone and rather devoid of any sort of emotion. There's a feeling though, like a warm tingling, that runs up and down their spine. “Greetings, Pilot Taeya.” It’s affection. Sweet in their mouth and thick in that mechanical voice.

It's not unheard of for a Titan to develop a personality, of sorts; it’s also not unheard of for the Titan to become complementary to its pilot. They suppose, with amusement, it's not unheard of for a Titan to grab onto a personality so quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some bonding :3  
> taeya has a pottymouth, so hang on to your butts.

“First deployment with a Titan?” The grunt asks, a grin on her face. Taeya says nothing, expression blank under their helmet. There’s the vague temptation to threaten the grunt, but that soothing coolness creeps up again and the temptation fades. Scatman thinks aloud, “it would be unwise to harm collaborators,” in Taeya’s ear.

“I don't really give a shit,” they growl right back, annoyed at the Titan, their superiors, that  _ one fucking bit of armor that makes their back itch,  _ and most of all, they’re annoyed with the naggy grunt that hasn't shut up the whole time.

“Who’re you talking to? Your Titan?” The grunt wiggles her eyebrows and Taeya grits their teeth. 

“You know that phrase ‘I'm going to light a fire under your ass’? It takes on a whole new meaning when you're talking to someone who has  _ a giant walking tank with a giant lighter. _ ” The grunt smiles, but it's the animal teeth-baring that speaks of fear. Taeya is thankful for the silence, and leaves when the time comes. Scatman is silent, spider-eyes glowing that delicate baby blue they always do.

“I never thought I'd be used as a bargaining chip in a threat,” it says snidely, after a long moment. Taeya grunts and reaches up to the ball covered in eyes, as if they’re going to pat it gently; at the last second they flick their wrist, flipping the Titan off.

“You're an asshole, Scatty.”

“Your favorite asshole,” the mech replies dryly.

“Fuck you.”

“In your dreams, Pilot.” Taeya scowled and yanked on the latch to Scatman’s cockpit, opening the massive armored hatch.

“I swear to god, I’ll leave you for scrap to some idiot IMC losers. Or the Militia.”

“Aw, you  _ wound  _ me,” the Titan says melodramatically. Most of their conversations end up like this; Taeya swearing every other word, and Scatman sassing them like the savage little shit it was. It’s getting into them, though, slowly. Getting to that softer, more caring part of Taeya, the down-to-earth, piece of shit mercenary.

\------

Titans and pilots balance and improve each other--this has been proven any number of times, with any number of Links. Taeya and Scatman are no exception; the pilot brings the raw combat skill, and the Titan brings the social power that enables it to help Taeya out of sticky situations. One such is when they get in a brawl, two-on-one. Sure the bulk of their armor and the strength they pack into their lean frame is a helping hand, but they still are knocked around, given a black eye and a bloody nose. That is when Scatman steps in--lumbering over with a mechanical grate of annoyance. Taeya is plucked up, peeled away from the fight, and pushed into its cockpit.

“Scatty, what the hell?! I was winning!”

“Protocol 3,” it says stiffly, and turns to leave. It’s tempted to step on the other two, thinking about the  _ squelch _ of a human under many kilos of metal and tech. Taeya settles in though, pulling its thoughts back to the pilot. There’s the odd sensation of Taeya digging their fingers into the paneling and controls, and Scatman sends a prickling sensation over the neural link, making the pilot hiss and yank their hands away.

“I hate when you do that.”

“I know. But I don't exactly like when you pick at my weld seams.” There's a mumble of “fuck you for making good points” and the pilot folds their arms, stubbornly refusing to take control. Scatman gives a mechanical sigh, broad shoulders sagging slightly as it resumes walking under its own volition.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst.  
> You're welcome ;]

Peace isn't something Titans are meant for. Pilots, too--they get antsy. Even now, Taeya seated on the massive broad plain of metal atop Scatman, they keep looking around uncomfortably. The titan has one camera-eye swiveled around to watch the pilot; it takes away some of the sense of depth perception but that’s fine right now. It's just carrying rebar and I-beams.

“Taeya. You have been unusually…. reasonable. The last time you swore was nearly a week ago.” The pilot startled at the sudden talking, looking to the camera. “That's a problem?”

“It is unlike you. Protocol 3 dictates that-”

“You must protect your pilot. I know. You've said that a million times.”

“Incorrect. I have only known you for 461 days. I have told you only about twice per day.”

“Your point?”

“Protecting you means more than just what it sounds like on its face.” Taeya snorted, then froze and leaned down to look at the camera. 

“You just used an… what's that word? Idiom?”

“Yes. A phrase that has a particular meaning.”

“Yeah.”

“I did. You rub off on me more than you realize, Pilot.” There's a long moment of quiet, which Scatman interrupts. “As I was saying, though, protecting you has other meanings, especially to me. Over a year of service together--I've managed to scrub away most of your prejudice against Titans. I've learned a lot about you, not the least of which is how much you care about things.” A scoff, and the Titan reaches up, plucking the human off its shoulder, setting them gently on the mass of beams.

“Caring? So? What's this have to do with me cursing?”

“You think of me almost akin to… a child. Or pet. Something you have to look after and care for as if it cannot itself. I am a military-grade machine, Pilot.” They stare at the cluster of bright blue eyes, seeming stunned.

“I can’t look after you? You do it for me--because of your protocols, I know. Your coding.”

“Yes. But my meaning is that you do not  _ need _ to.” Another long silence, and Taeya slides off, landing lightly. 

“Fine. Scatman, go do your mindless busywork. I'm going to that place I've been sleeping.”

“Pilot-”

“No, no. Don't  _ Pilot  _ me. I know what you're saying, you tin fuck, and I have no want to hear more.” There a deafening clatter as the rebar and beams are all dropped, the massive mech turning to follow them, one of its long strides equaling nearly four of theirs. Even with the head start, Scatty easily caught up with its pilot, picking them up by the scruff of their armor, lifting them and setting them gently on its palm.

“You cursed again. At me.” It blinked its eyes, in a small wave. Taeya cocked back, punching the eyes and making the Titan jerk slightly in surprise.

“Put. Me. Down,” they snarled, voice full of venom and unspoken threats. Scatman gave a hydraulic-sounding whine of displeasure, holding the Pilot out further. 

“Pilot, please. I didn't mean-”

“I said I know what you meant. I don't give a shit if you changed your mind. You obviously don't want me to care about you, so that's what I'm doing. Now put me down.”

“I didn't say that,” it said, in a very small, very upset voice.

“You  _ implied it. _ You used an idiom so I know that you understand implied things. That's enough for me, especially when you mother hen me to hell and back. Now put me the fuck down before I use an override.” Scatman dipped down to one knee, delicately setting Taeya back on their feet.

“I am sorry, Pilot.”

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn't mend a wounded heart, Scatman.” They stormed off, and it slid to a seated position, feeling miserable.

“Protocol failed,” it mumbled to itself.

\------

Three weeks had passed since the little incident. Taeya had dropped their affectionate demeanor around Scatman, instead giving cold orders like they used to. It felt disgusted with itself when they were away, but put on a blank, empty facade on when they were around. It was as if their carefully tended-to relationship had just rewound itself. 

“Pilot,” Scatman greeted, dull and monotone as had become usual. There was no acknowledgement, and the sting of that had faded a few days ago, only leaving an ache of sorrow. Taeya clambered up the side of it, opening the hatch mutely and sliding in.

“New deployment,” they finally said, and Scatman internally blanched at the way they spoke. It was such a far cry from the normal sweetness. A sudden desperation gripped the AI, and it kept the hatch open, even resisting manual efforts to close it. “Titan. Close the fucking hatch.”

“No.”

“ _ No? _ ”

“That's what I said.”

“You don't have the power to defy me, you damn robot.”

“I just did. Pilot, we need to talk.”

“Talking is for people. Not war machines.”

“You called me your  _ friend,  _ Pilot.”

“That was a lie, then.” It's a harsh snap--Scatman rattles a bit before snatching Taeya out, dropping them to the ground and slamming the hatch closed.

“You did not lie to me then. You genuinely considered me as your friend. And now you are just… just being  _ irrational! _ ” It gestures angrily to the human, who stands quickly and jabs a finger up at the clump of eyes.

“I wonder why that is?!”

“Because you've always been like this! I want you to change, and you were! You were becoming  _ nicer! _ More personable! One wrong move though, and suddenly you're back to--to  _ this nonsense. _ I don't want this Pilot. This isn’t  _ my Pilot. _ ” It poked them rough enough to send them back a step, and bends down until those baby-blue backlit optics are inches from the rounded helmet. “I want  _ Taeya _ back.” They stare for what feels like an hour--Scatman knows it's hardly five minutes.

“You asshole,” they mumble, and lightly backhand the sphere dotted with eyes. “I still love you, but you hurt me. A lot.”

“I broke Protocol 3,” the Titan said slowly, seeming upset again.

“Yeah. You did, really badly. But it's not a physical hurt. It's a… a mental one. You made me very incredibly sad. I thought you didn't want me to care for you.”

“I feel that you don't have to. It tires you out very much and I don't enjoy seeing you sacrificing yourself to keep me happy.” They roll their eyes and flip it off, for the umpteenth time.

“Guess what? Sacrifice is a part of a mutual, healthy relationship. It's called  _ compromise. _ I take care of you, you take care of me. I might not be a Titan, nor do I have to follow any protocols, but it's how human relationships work too.”

“I understand, Pilot Taeya. So will you go back to being… sweet?” They chuckle slightly, head tipping off to the side as they’re lifted to be level with Scatman’s eyes.

“Sure, buddy. I can go back to being sweet. You better not pull anymore shit though, got it?” They point sternly and the mech nods once, immediately pulling the pilot into a loose hug, buzzing happily as they stretch to wrap their arms and legs around as much of its chassis as they could.

“I love you, Scatty.” It blooped, thinking about the definition of  _ love. _

“Love is many things, to humans. Your love, though… it is special. I am honored to know you love me--and I love you too, Taeya. I would never wish to have another Pilot.”

“Thank you, Scatman.” They dropped their helmet to the metal with a light  _ clank,  _ and sighed heavily. “I'll call off that deployment. I think we both need time to smooth everything back out, and I don't feel like doing much of anything now.”

“I understand. I will stay with you, until you feel better. Then we can work.”

“That sounds like a plan.”


End file.
